Blazer defeat wins back time

Part of me welcomed Houston's resounding defeat of the Blazers last night.

I was getting way too involved in the fortunes of the upstart home team. I had already reached the point of yelling at the screen. And I was referring to the Blazers as "we" and the Rockets as "they."

Dangerous signs.

Had the Trailblazers won the first round, I would have frittered away hours, days even, in front of the TV, hanging on every jump shot, dunk, steal and rebound.

So thanks, Blazers, for giving us back time. Who knows, I might use some to go out and shoot my own jump shots.

Or just smell the roses.

Life without Texas (and the Houston Rockets?)

Since wing-nut Republicans can’t win without hanging chads and rigged electronic voting, Texas Gov. Rick Perry is talking about picking up Texas' loose marbles and marching The Lone Star State out of the Union.

And Libertarian Congressman Ron Paul is keeping the secession idea alive.

I say go for it, Texas!

With the exception of The Texas Observer, Austin City Limits, Kinky Friedman, Molly Ivins, Ralph Yarborough, Jim Hightower and a few other worthies, Texas has given this nation little more than grief.

Where to begin?

My first awareness that something was rotten in the state started on an indelible Friday. Nov. 22, 1963 in Dallas. The toxicity ran right through oil-patch-caused pollution and graft, Lyndon Johnson's Southeast Asian misadventures, dozens of Texas executions to the plutocracy of George W. Bush.

So go, Texas.

But be quick about it. The Trailblazers could use a pass on the rest of the series with the Houston Rockets? Remember, it's called the NATIONAL Basketball Association.

PS: For Hightower's take on Perry, go HERE.

Foul play and play-offs; Guilt and paranoia

Tonight is our regular Tuesday evening Scrabble game. I play with my mother-in-law and wife, who are, I'm convinced, in league against me.

It's the old-blood-is-thicker-than-water bit.

I'm certain they've devised secret Scrabble signals.

I've noticed that their eyebrows twitch uncharacteristically at times.

Earlobes are suspiciously squeezed and toyed with, like some signal from a Scrabble dugout. One wants the other to lay down a bunt, Scrabble-wise.

The other is calling for a triple-letter pitch out or a seven-letter steal.

Maybe a brush of the sleeve means "I have the 'q'. Play an open 'i'."

You laugh, but this isn't funny. I've seen it happen!

Anyway, between turns tonight I will put aside my paranoia about being duped. I intend to check out the status of Game 2 of the NBA play-offs between the Rockets and the hapless Blazers.

If Game 2 is anything like the Game 1 shellacking by Houston, I won't be gone long from the Scrabble board.

Then there is the little matter of guilt.

Play-off peeking constitutes a flagrant foul during the Days of Darkened Screens, more commonly known as TV-Turnoff Week. See yesterday's poetic post.

Oh well. I'm sure the Screen-time Awareness Network people (That's what the organizers now call themselves) will understand, as at least I will be AWARE of what I'm doing.

Now if I could only be aware of what my mother-in-law and wife were doing. What we really need is a Mother-in-Law/Daughter Secret Communication Awareness Network.